Serial, or, rather, addendum:

Checking back, I never used the word "nutjob". Didn't think I had; I said "spiteful needy no-lifes."

I don't think envy makes anyone a nutjob, necessarily. I mean, it can - look at the freak who shot John Lennon - but mostly, I don't think it does.

If someone wants to resent me for an astonishing life and the ability to create, go for it. If they'd like the heartbreak, the multiple sclerosis and a few other little downsides as well, even better. Life is about balance.

I think, to armchair it and fling notions into the air for Allyson, should she need them, that a lot of the time, it's the balance that's lacking in the people doing the serious resenting of whatever it is they're resenting.

They are too often (in my experience, at least, which, granted, is mainly fandom) those who've had more than their share of downsides, but none of the upsides, if that makes sense. Like, the driving factor in the darkness of the pointy skulls is, "If I have to suffer all this junk that's been piling on since forever, too, why don't I get a slice of the astonishing pie?"

And it's weird and uncomfortable to see, because you can see where they're coming from, kind of (hell, I know I've resented the hell out of people for being disgustingly fertile, and I still get a twinge of it from time to time, even now that I have a baby) , but it's such a narrow, self-defeating focus that you just want to back away slowly.

Yep yep yep. What Plei said.

And then what Plei said.

And then, lest there be any doubt about it, what Plei said.

It's about achieving balance. Resenting those who've come to terms with all the sides of their life, or who, at least, are admitting that there are sides and attempting to balance? Is pointless and destructive to the very balance the person doing the resenting needs to achieve.

Like, the driving factor in the darkness of the pointy skulls is, "If I have to suffer all this junk that's been piling on since forever, too, why don't I get a slice of the astonishing pie?"

Yes, this. This is an attitude I see a lot of, and it's difficult to get past because no one has a good answer to give those people. (Well, saying "Because life is random, sorry" never strikes me as a good answer, anyways.)

Life is random, though. Or at the very least, my philosophy is that precious little is under my direct control. Stuff happens.

Or at the very least, my philosophy is that precious little is under my direct control.

Heh. And at 180 from that - since I believe pretty much everything that happens to me is under my control - there still isn't any good answer. Because no one wants to hear "look, if you're unhappy with your choices, change as many of them as you feel you're able to change, or don't. but either way stop resenting me for my life", either.

learning about myself

I knew I had found my identity when I started skipping lunch. Instead I ate vending machine cookies and hung out with my newfound friends who dreamed and laughed and extrapolated and made snarky comments about the snarkable.

It didn't make life ideal, but it sure made it bearable.

Later, I befriended a boy who had gotten kicked out of the nearby city school for knifing somebody. My parents warned me about him, but it was too late.

Life did get easier after that. Somehow it helped for everyone to know you were close to the boy they all feared.

Eeep.

Just sent the chapter outline/breakdown/synopsis/thingie to the nice agent. (Okay, my agent. I have to get used to saying that.)

Why am I nervous? I shouldn't be nervous, should I?

Dayum, Liese.

Just sent the chapter outline/breakdown/synopsis/thingie to the nice agent. (Okay, my agent. I have to get used to saying that.)

Why am I nervous? I shouldn't be nervous, should I?

I love you, Jilli.

Buffistas are the publishingest.